“Hiding? Have you been stalking him?”
Gowan asked with some amusement.
“A bit,”
Gen admitted.
“He was always a bit conceited, to be honest, but I had a crush on him when we were fledglings. His colors are striking, and he’s a fierce fighter. Or, at least he was.”
Her tone grew somewhat wistful.
“He was blinded fighting skiths on the border a while ago. He lost his knight, and they sent him here to recover. Seth’s been looking after him, the dear boy.”
“I’m sorry, Gen.”
Gowan felt the sadness in his dragon partner’s heart as if it was his own.
“If it’s any consolation, he doesn’t look blind to me. If this is your friend, Hrardorr, he’s very able in the water, and the fishing fleet seems to adore him. They cheer him as a hero.”
“He
is
a hero,”
Gen insisted, her voice passionate in Gowan’s mind.
Gowan followed the dragon’s progress as he seemed to seek out one fishing boat in particular. It was a small sailboat with only one occupant. Gowan strained to see, realizing belatedly that the fisherman on that little boat was really a fisher
woman
. And she seemed to be having a conversation with the dragon as he floated near her little vessel.
They stayed that way for some time, the dragon keeping company with the woman on the sailboat. Her mouth moved as she spoke to him, and from the animation in her gestures, it looked for all the world as if she were holding a conversation with the dragon. Which could only mean…she could hear him.
Gowan might not know everything there was to know about dragons, but he did know that being able to hear their silent speech was a rare gift. It was even rarer among women, for some reason. Which made the sight he was witnessing something to take note of. Especially as it looked like the woman was not from the Lair and all by herself in the little boat, and therefore, might possibly be single.
She was also beautiful, from what Gowan could see from this distance. But being able to hear dragons meant she was uniquely qualified to possibly…just possibly…be a candidate for becoming mate to a pair of knights. From all accounts, it made it easier for the woman to understand the unique relationship required if she could bespeak the dragons involved.
It was yet another thing Gowan didn’t fully understand about his new status as a knight and partner to a dragon. But Gowan was of an age to want to find a wife and had queried Gen at length about the particular traits—if any—that he should look for while he was questing for a mate. He also knew that Gen could not take a mate until Gowan had found one.
Gowan asked the fishermen on the boat he was on about the fisherwoman and found out quite a bit. That she was a woman of means bothered him. Gowan had given up much in his life. His comfortable home as the son of a keep lord had been taken from him when his father died suddenly during a hunt and his eldest brother, Lorcan, became the new lord.
One of Lorcan’s first acts as lord had been to kick Gowan out with nothing but a horse and a few pieces of silver in his pocket. Gowan had gone quietly for the sake of their mother, who had been torn between her two sons for a very long time.
Though he would have liked to have seen his mother, Gowan had never been back. He’d chosen his trade as a soldier, eventually working his way up into a leadership position where he led men into battle and trained them.
And then Genlitha had come along. She’d seen him teaching a class one day on the plain outside Castleton and had begun shadowing his movements. When she had started talking to him, Gowan had been startled, to say the least. He’d had no idea how dragons communicated, or that he had the special gift required to hear them.
It had taken a few days, but eventually, Genlitha had spoken the words of Claim to him, and his life had been changed forever. From that moment on, Gowan had become a dragon knight, God help them all.
But the woman who could talk to dragons… She fascinated him. Her name, he had learned from the fisherman, was Livia, and she was the only child of the most successful sea captain and trader in the town. She ran her father’s various business interests while he was at sea, which seemed to be all the time now that his wife had passed. The fisherman seemed to respect and genuinely like her, which counted in her favor to Gowan’s way of thinking.
“Yon dragon now, he’s a newcomer. Strange one, but a good-hearted creature. Most from on high never come down to the sea, but he looks as if he were born to it,” the fisherman observed as he and Gowan sat, watching the floating dragon and the small boat he sat next to in the water.
“They say he’s part sea dragon,” Gowan said carefully, not wanting to give away where he’d heard that from.
The fisherman only knew Gowan was new in town. He probably had no idea Gowan was a knight, which was how he preferred to keep it for now. It wasn’t all that long ago that Gowan had just been a soldier. Nothing special about him, really. Becoming a knight had been one hell of an adjustment.
“Sea dragon, you say?” The fisherman looked at the distant dragon speculatively. “Aye, that would make sense. I saw a sea dragon once, you know, when I was a wee lad. Smaller than him yonder.” The man nodded toward Sir Hrardorr. “But colored near the same. Maybe a bit more blue and green, but very close. ‘Course, that sea dragon had no flame. This one, you can see smoke rise from his nose now and again, so I take that to mean he’s got fire in his belly.”
“You’re probably right about that, aye,” Gowan agreed good-naturedly. “But I’ve never seen a fighting dragon swim like him.”
“Seen a lot of dragons, have ye?” The fisherman looked at Gowan speculatively, but with a friendly grin.
The fisherman was fishing for information, but Gowan didn’t mind. It was natural to want to know about a newcomer.
“I came here from Castleton. There are scores of dragons there,” Gowan hedged. “I’ve seen a few fishing in the river, but none ever swam that I saw.”
“Rivers be different than sea,” the fisherman observed.
“Fishing’s different too,” Gowan said, trying to redirect the conversation. “I’ve done all my fishing to this point on rivers.”
“Oh, aye,” the fisherman agreed, going on at some length about all the different kinds of fish that could be had from the sea. “And there are worse predators,” he said, gesturing broadly as he frowned. “Shark, giant squid and the like. The dragon lord, though, he’s made things safer and more profitable for us of late. The warm weather this year has brought more predators closer to shore than usual, but ol’ dragon there has been evening the odds for us. Quite a sight it is to see him chewing on a four-yard shark, too. Better than a tavern show!” The old fisherman grinned, chuckling a bit as they both looked at the dragon, still sitting docilely on top of the light waves, apparently chatting with the girl on the boat next to him.
“He brought up a giant squid yesterday,” the fisherman went on. “Never saw the like. It was still wriggling. That dragon must be able to dive deep. Such creatures live in the darkest fathoms. The only time we ever see them is if one shows up in a net, already dead. Usually in pieces, with teeth marks on ‘em. Ain’t never seen one still alive before. But it weren’t for long.” The fisherman cackled with something like glee.
Gowan was impressed at what he was learning about the dragon known as Hrardorr. Genlitha had been surprisingly tight-lipped about the male dragon, though she had admitted to having a crush on the brute when they were still youngsters. Gowan wondered privately if there was more to it. Maybe Gen still held feelings for Hrardorr. Maybe, if the stars aligned and the Mother of All blessed them, Hrardorr might turn out to be Genlitha’s mate.
Of course, that would mean Gowan had to find one first before Gen could consummate a union with whatever dragon turned out to be her match. And whoever that unknown dragon’s knight was would be the man with whom Gowan was supposed to share his mate.
Gowan scratched the back of his neck, still uncertain as to how that was supposed to work. He’d never really been exposed to the three-way relationships that were the norm in dragon Lairs. Knights and their problems were about as far removed from Gowan’s old life as a simple soldier as the stars were from the ocean he found himself fishing that day.
Feeling a telltale tug on his line, Gowan set to work reeling in the fish who had taken his bait. The fisherman wandered off to check his own gear, and only the lap of the waves against the hull of the wooden boat and the occasional splash could be heard for a long time.
When they’d caught enough fish for the day, the fisherman turned his boat toward the shore, and Gowan helped the man clean up and prepare the small vessel for the next day. It was only polite. And Gowan liked the guy, rough as he was.
The sea-colored dragon and the girl were still out fishing, so Gowan calculated that he could make it to the Lair—to drop off his catch and clean up a bit—and back, to see if he could accidentally-on purpose run into the lady. He wanted to meet her. It was like a compulsion in his blood. He didn’t really understand it, except that she intrigued him on every level.
When Hrardorr took off, winging his way back toward the Lair, Livia headed her little sailboat toward home. She would dock at the pier near the marketplace where her father’s offices were. There was something she wanted to check before she went home for the night, even though she’d given herself the day off to fish.
She’d been doing that more often since she’d made friends with Hrardorr. She enjoyed his company, and she thought he enjoyed hers as well. He came down from the Lair to fish most days, but she could only spare a day or two each week to goof off in her sailboat. The weekends were hers, though, and she spent those two days with her new dragon friend. All in all, that meant she’d been spending three or four days out of every seven with Hrardorr for the past few weeks.
If she had her way, she’d do that for as long as possible. She really liked spending time with the dragon. He wasn’t like any other being she’d ever met. He didn’t judge her by the same standards humans applied. Her father’s business meant nothing to him. Her wealth didn’t impress him. And her social standing didn’t matter in the slightest. Which was very freeing to a woman who had spent all of her life being weighed and measured like the stacks of coins in her father’s safe.
The day seemed a little darker now that Hrardorr had left. It always felt that way when he took off for the Lair. He made her world a little brighter when he was near her. She didn’t question why that was. He was a dragon, after all. They were magic personified, in her opinion. Of course she would miss him when he left each day they were together.
She maneuvered her boat next to the dock and got help from a young boy just waiting to earn a copper for catching her lines. He helped her tie up and agreed to take her catch of fish up to her housekeeper for an extra coin. Livia knew the boy and had hired him to do this same thing on a few other occasions, so she knew her fish would make it to her home—and that her housekeeper would give the boy a decent meal before she let him leave.
Livia smiled as she headed for her father’s office in the marketplace. She paused by a public fountain to rinse her hands and tidy up a bit before heading to make her final stop on the way to the office.
Liam’s pie stand served everything from sweets to savories and had the tastiest pocket pies in town. He had a market stall close to her father’s building, and she wanted to stop by and get a snack before heading into the office.
“That looks good.” A deep male voice came from over her shoulder as Liam placed the pocket pie—a creation of meat, onions and spices baked inside a flaky pie crust—in front of her.
She looked back to find the owner of the voice and nearly did a double take. He was handsome. And tall. Exceedingly tall…and handsome. And did she mention handsome?
“Liam makes the best pies in Dragonscove,” she answered, knowing she needed to say something and feeling at a bit of a loss when confronted by such a specimen of manhood.
She slid the coin for her pie over the counter while the man behind her placed his order for the same thing she was having. He was affable and polite to Liam, which spoke well of his manners, and he moved back just enough for her to pass when she picked up her pie and headed for the little pots of sauces Liam kept farther down the counter for those who liked to add a little zest to their purchase.
The man joined her by the sauces, a few moments later, with his own pie. He looked over the selections but didn’t move to take any of the spoons that were in the various pots.
“What do you recommend?” he asked her, striking up conversation again.
“The red sauce is hot. The orange sweet. The yellow is primarily mustard seed with dill. The brown is beef gravy. Any of those would go well with what you ordered,” she offered.
She noticed he picked two of the sauces and placed a cautious dollop of each on the edge of his plate. A discerning man, then. Not one to jump in blind with both feet. He was more cautious than that.
When Livia took a seat at one of the wooden tables Liam kept for his customers in front of the stall, the man followed. He held his plate in his hand, waiting until she looked up at him.
“I know this is very forward, but may I sit with you? I promise I am not some random stranger. I’m actually from the Lair and on my first day off in a strange town. I’m only recently arrived.” He managed to look harmless, which was quite a feat for someone of his size and build. He was clearly a soldier of some sort—probably a knight, if he truly was from the Lair. “My name is Gowan Hunter, youngest son of Lord Dariath Hunter of Hunt’s Keep along the River Arundelle.”
“Impressive pedigree,” she nodded, having heard such things from suitors in the past. Suddenly, the man was a little less interesting. “If it’s true,” she muttered.
He had the grace to look sheepish. “It’s true, though I rarely use any of that anymore. Forgive me, I made assumptions knowing you were a gentle lady.”
“I may have been born to a life of ease, but I am not noble,” she protested.